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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29744412">Sexy Guitar Guy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/verfound/pseuds/verfound'>verfound</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Miraculous Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fantasies are discussed/described, Give Marinette a Nap, LBSC sprint challenge, Light Angst, Mild Sexual Content, Sleep Drunk Students, Too Tired No Filter, University AU</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:47:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,488</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29744412</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/verfound/pseuds/verfound</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Marinette is exhausted and just wants to watch Sexy Guitar Guy play a few songs.  Among other things.  That Sexy Guitar Guy was never supposed to hear, except apparently he’s standing right behind her?  Oops?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>216</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>LBSCSprintFicChallenge</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sexy Guitar Guy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Another one for LBSC Sprint Challenge’s AU week, sorta?  xD  I started this with the College/University/Private Tutor AU in mind, but Bloody had also posted this prompt about “Luka walks in on Marinette very explicitly telling Alya what she wants Luka to do to her”, and I feel like I went more with that idea but in a college setting?  Idk.  xD  The explicit content is more fantasies/Marinette’s dirty mind/mouth, and it kinda gets a bit angsty towards the end?  I feel like I should do a part 2 where they talk about what happens here.  It feels like it needs More.  But this is where the sprints got me, and I need to finish HS before I rabbit hole any more.</p>
<p>Just a reminder: LBSC Sprint Challenge Guidelines: Three 15-minute sprints to write or draw for a given prompt.  24 hours to edit/finish/ post.  And an entire community of Lukanette-loving lovelies to cheer you on.  :D</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Marinette was <em>exhausted</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That was the only excuse she had.  Later, when Alya would play back the VERY incriminating video of all the horribly <em>mortifying</em> things Exhausted Marinette had said (in front of a Luka whose face was several shades redder than her Ladybug suit had ever been), that would be the only thing she could cling to.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Because she had been.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Exhausted.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>…and apparently incredibly horny to boot.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But it wasn’t her fault!  She’d been running <em>ragged</em> lately!  They were nearing the end of the semester, and finals were approaching, and she had three large projects looming (one of which, if she did poorly on, could cost her an entire letter grade and jeopardize some scholarships), and the newest Wannabe Hawkmoth was being particularly annoying lately, so akuma attacks were up, and it was <em>winter</em>, and her uncle had gotten sick so her mother was in China taking care of him, and she had <em>stupidly</em> told her dad she’d be <em>fine</em> helping out at the bakery for a week, and – on top of <em>Everything</em> – her boyfriend had dumped her!  So the usual means of <em>stress relief</em> weren’t exactly available to her, because the asshole had <em>dumped her</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>…well.  That wasn’t entirely fair.  She had sort of dumped him, too.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It had been a mutual parting of the ways, at least.  They had only started dating because Alya had thought it would be a good idea, and the only thing they really had in common was how much they liked kissing.  (And even then, Marinette only liked kissing him because he had dark hair and light eyes and his long fingers dancing along her spine had felt like…but then he’d always open his stupid mouth and <em>say something</em>, and it was the Wrong Voice saying the Wrong Things and always ruined the mood.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And it probably wasn’t fair to call Harry a <em>boyfriend</em>.  They’d barely gone out a week – he was a <em>fling</em> at best.  But he had been her longest fling in…well, ever, so the title had seemed appropriate at the time.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He hadn’t thought so when he’d showed up to the local college bar two nights back and shoved his tongue down someone else’s throat.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>God, she was <em>tired</em>.  And <em>horny</em>.  She wasn’t sure what she needed more: a nap or a penis.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She took a long pull from the straw of her drink – an iced blueberry green tea, nothing stronger, she swore, because this beatnik little joint didn’t sell anything stronger than ultra-pressed black coffee – and almost giggled, her lips curling into a smirk around the straw.  Her eyes darted to the little stage in the corner of the café.  She could definitely use a penis.  Specifically…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Beside her, Alya’s eyebrows rose higher on her forehead.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You ok, girl?” she asked, reaching for her own drink.  Something with caramel and foam and too much caffeine, Marinette was sure.  “You look…”  <em>Out of it</em>, Alya thought, but instead smiled and continued, “…you’ve looked better.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sexy Guitar Guy’s playing tonight,” Marinette said with an exhausted little giggle.  She was slumped forward onto the table, one elbow propped by her head as her other arm curled around her drink, bringing it closer.  She had meant to prop her chin in her other hand but had somehow missed, and now her hand was kind of dragging through her hair and making it stick up at odd angles.  Sex hair, Alya called it.  The kind of hair she’d have if Sexy Guitar Guy would…Alya’s eyebrows went higher.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sexy Guitar Guy?” she asked, snorting.  “You mean Luka?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Mmmm…” Marinette hummed, glancing back at the stage in the corner.  She’d seen him come in maybe ten minutes ago, drop his guitar by the stool on the little stage, and disappear.  He should be going on any minute now.  “Yep.  <em>Luka.</em>”  The way she said – moaned – his name was nearly indecent, as was the face she made and the way her toes curled when she thought about him.  “Sexy Guitar Guy.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…the same Luka you’ve known since collège,” Alya said, her eyes moving to look over her friend’s shoulder.  “Juleka’s brother.  The one you’ve…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The one I want to ride like his name’s Silver and I’m the Lone Ranger,” Marinette giggled, and Alya laughed so hard she choked.  She leered at her friend over her tea.  “Hi-ho, <em>Silver</em>.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ooook,” Alya said, patting her shoulder.  She was still grinning over her shoulder, but Marinette was still watching the stage.  Where was he, anyway?  She had come for eye candy, and she wanted to be fed, damn it!  “Nino’s not allowed to show you old westerns anymore.  That was <em>awful</em>.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Marinette looked back at her, perking up a little.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ok then.  Like he’s Viperion and I can’t wait to meet his pet snake?” she giggled.  Alya choked again.  “I bet he has a nice snake.  Very…<em>snakey</em>.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Luka or Viperion?” Alya snickered, and Marinette hummed as she sucked on her drink again.  After a moment, she glanced back at Alya with a smirk.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…both,” she said.  Her eyes closed, and she bit her lower lip as she imagined a darkened rooftop, a hidden alcove high above the city…Luka pressing her into a wall, his lips hot on her neck…except it wasn’t actually a wall, because Viperion was leaning against the wall, and she was sandwiched between them with her ass grinding into his hips…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She knew, of course, that Luka and Viperion were the same person and this fantasy wasn’t exactly entirely possible – but she also knew of another Miraculous that could make it just a <em>little</em> possible, and God if that thought wasn’t hot…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…Luka and Viperion threesome,” she said without thinking, groaning as she squirmed.  There was a strangled sound near her, and if she hadn’t been so tired she would have thought how strange it was that suggesting a threesome between her long-time crush and superhero crush would fluster Alya.  Alya was…unflusterable.  She’d been regaling Marinette with tales of her and Nino’s sexcapades since…well, a hell of a lot sooner than Marinette had been wanting to hear, at least.  “God, that’s hot…ok, that’s gonna keep me up tonight…<em>rail me, baby…</em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Marinette, are you admitting you like Luka?” Alya wheedled, drawing her back out of her fantasy.  Marinette frowned, blinking bleary eyes at her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Admitting?  Alya, I’ve <em>been</em> admitting,” she huffed.  “How is this news?  You’re the one who told me I can’t be mad at Harry for dumping me because I keep trying to date Luka without…” she paused, her face scrunching.  “How’d you put it?  Something about not buying cake?  Because every guy I date looks like Luka and you were pissed I won’t just tell Luka I want to have his babies?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She sighed, only sort of noticing the noise behind her.  That guy at the other table should probably get some water.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I bet he’d make some pretty babies…” she sighed, slumping back onto the table.  “I bet we’d have so much fun making them, too…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Girl, you are <em>hopeless!</em>” Alya laughed, reaching over to pat her shoulder.  She squeezed, and when Marinette peeked back at her Alya was smirking behind her.  She still wasn’t looking at Marinette when she continued: “But for the record, just to be one hundred percent clear.  You wouldn’t be opposed to taking things further?  With Luka?  Maybe actually dating him instead of just dreaming about…<em>having his babies?</em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I am one hundred percent unopposed to Luka taking me home and fucking my brains out,” Marinette said, nodding.  She smiled a little, looking back to his guitar waiting by the stool.  “Repeatedly.  On the regular.  And yes, eventually having his babies.  You know I’ve always wanted a big family.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alya snickered, and she looked back at her with a frown.  Alya had her phone raised, smirking at her like she was getting the biggest scoop ever.  Marinette rolled her eyes and looked back at the stage.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Besides, you’ve seen him play.  He’s so <em>talented</em>, the way those long fingers move over that guitar…” Marinette sighed, her eyes closing as another fantasy snuck up on her.  Luka behind her on the small bed back in her dorm, his arms holding her close as those <em>talented fingers</em> pushed inside of her, stroking her like he’d stroke his strings…  “Can you imagine what those fingers would feel like inside you?  Oh, God…<em>play me</em>, Couffaine.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Marinette thought she heard a choking noise behind her, but Alya was laughing so hard she couldn’t be sure.  Still, she turned to the table beside them, where a man with curly red hair was staring at her with wide eyes, and frowned.  He’d been coughing an awful lot – maybe she <em>should</em> get him some water…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You ok?” she asked, holding out a napkin.  “That sounded like it hurt.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Fingers wrapped around her wrist, and she looked up to see Luka staring at her with…she didn’t think she’d ever seen his eyes so dark before.  Or his face that red.  That was a <em>very</em> interesting shade of red.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Luka!” she cheered, swiveling on her stool and grinning up at him.  She wobbled precariously, and his hand left her wrist to told her shoulder, his other going to her hip to steady her.  She giggled as she reached out and fisted her hands in his shirt, holding on.  “Oops.  Shouldn’t move so fast.  I’m exhausted here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…you shouldn’t have come out if you’re that tired,” he said, his voice low and sounding a little strained.  She frowned at that, tugging his shirt a little.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Dummy!” she chided. “Like I’d ever miss one of your shows.  You’ve got to play me…” she said, but a large yawn interrupted her and Luka sucked in a breath, his grip on her tightening as her request from moments ago looped through his mind, “…s-something.  Something pretty.  As pretty as you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She giggled again, and Luka looked at Alya desperately.  She was still recording.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, look who it is,” she said dryly, winking at him.  “<em>Sexy Guitar Guy.</em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>…he was going to kill her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why don’t we get you some coffee, at least?” Luka asked, sighing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why don’t you take her home, at least?” Alya snickered.  Luka would have flipped her off if his hands weren’t so full of Marinette.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Shut up, Alya,” he muttered darkly.  He sucked in a breath when Marinette slumped against him, her chin propped on his chest as she smiled up at him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Now there’s an idea,” she sighed.  His entire body tensed as her fingers danced along his stomach.  “I bet your bed’s a lot comfier than mine.  Warmer, too.  With all the Luka in it.”  She sighed and rested her head on his chest, her ear pressing above his thundering heart.  “My bed doesn’t have enough Luka in it.  I’ve been meaning to fix that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“M-M-Marinette,” he spluttered.  God, didn’t she realize she was killing him?  How the hell was he going to be able to play a set after this?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I bet he’d stutter my name just like that, too, when I go down on him,” she giggled.  Alya had, by this point, collapsed against the table.  She was laughing so hard no sound except unintelligible, wheezing gasps were escaping her.  Luka was going to straight-up murder her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I…I don’t think there’s going to be any <em>going down</em> tonight, M…Marinette,” he said, pausing to clear his throat before he stuttered her name again.  He had no doubt she was right: he was sure he would be a stuttering, gasping mess, if she ever…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>…but it wouldn’t be tonight.  It <em>couldn’t</em> be tonight.  She was so exhausted she had no idea what she was saying, and if she <em>was</em> more awake…there was no way she would still want those things.  Him.  <em>Those Things</em> being…him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He knew she’d broken up with that guy she’d been dating – of course he knew that, even before he’d overheard her tell Alya…but it didn’t matter <em>what</em> she told Alya, not really.  This was just the loneliness talking.  He was familiar, and safe, and…if Marinette honestly wanted him <em>like that</em>, wouldn’t she have said something before now?  Instead of…how had she (or, he supposed, Alya) put it?  <em>Dating guys who looked like him instead of actually just dating him?</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why isn’t he playing yet, anyway?” Marinette asked, jerking up from his chest with a start.  She blinked owlishly at the stage, a pouting frown curling her lips.  “I came to see Luka, and Luka’s not here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m right here, Marinette,” he sighed, rubbing her arms.  She looked back at him and squinted, frowning a moment before her eyes widened in realization.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Luka!” she cheered, pulling him in for a tight hug.  Her knees pressed against his hips, and God that was torture in and of itself…  “Why aren’t you playing?  Aren’t you playing tonight?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was supposed to, yeah.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Just…wanted to say hi,” he said, patting her back.  “Before I went on.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Has to make time for his <em>number one fan</em>,” Alya snickered.  With Marinette more stable and less likely to crash to the floor, Luka felt safe enough lifting a hand from her to flip Alya off.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m only doing a few songs,” he said.  “Chester’s the main act tonight.  But he’s going to be running late, so I said I’d hold the crowd over until he gets here.  I can…I can see you home after, if you’d like?  You’re scaring me a little, Marinette.  You shouldn’t have come out tonight.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ll always come for you,” Marinette slurred, her head back on his chest and her arms wrapped around his middle.  She giggled again, completely oblivious to the blush burning his face.  She snuggled closer, sighing.  “My Luka.  My sexy guitar guy.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alya gave him a knowing look, and he groaned as he tried to pry Marinette off of him.  Except it didn’t really work, and she just burrowed closer, until he finally sighed and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…yeah,” he sighed, wishing it was true and hating himself for how badly he wanted it.  For how true it already was, even if she didn’t know it.  “Your…your guitar guy.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He ended up playing five songs that night before Chester showed up, and Marinette was slumped over the table in a dead sleep by the time he got back to her.  Alya was still grinning, but he just shot her a withering glare and said, “<em>Not a word</em>,” before he scooped Marinette up in his arms.  Her arms wrapped around his neck, holding him tight even in her sleep.  He wondered if that meant she was a cuddler, if he’d wake up in the morning to…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>…but those were Dangerous Thoughts best left for when he <em>didn’t</em> have an armful of Marinette and her diabolical best friend watching him with knowing eyes.</p>
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